151. Getting from Point A to Point B

Tonight I took my last drive in my BMW. Many of you have born hours of discussion about Evil Tra and the love of this car. I have spent hours wishing I didn't care. After all, it is just a way to get from Point A to Point B.

Never in my life did I think I could own a BMW. Certainly it was not the kind of thing I ever thought about, really. I just figured that was for really rich, successful people. Anyway, it didn't matter. It was just a way to get from Point A to Point B.

When I was young, on Sundays my father would take me to church and on the way home, we would stop at the car dealership. No pressure when they are closed, and he would look in the windows of all the shiny new cars. He just dreamed about those shiny new cars. He was from the age of real cars--back in the 50s and 60s when they all looked different and were recognizable. He could name any car you saw on the road.

My dad always waxed poetic about Cadillacs and Lincolns. But he always sang this song about a Mercedes Benz, "Oh Lord" he would sort of screech out, oblivious to the extent of his tone-deafness, "won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?" My dad loved cars.

I have worked hard and was gifted with reasonable amounts of intelligence and good luck. Some would call me rich. I know I am blessed. I managed to get myself free from credit card debt, from school loans. I bought property before I thought I could. I had a great husband, a great job, and a lovely house in the suburbs on a tree-lined street near two big lakes! But it was the car--when we got the BMW I felt like it was the one thing that made me feel like, "Hey, I made it." And I couldn't wait to tell my dad. I figured he would understand, and maybe even be a little proud. I had moved from Point A to Point B.

It was the day after my birthday when we got it, and we went straight from the dealership to Chicago with dear friends having a grand old time and a sleepover complete with a good brunch and lots of discussions. When my mom called we didn't hear the phone. It was the worst kind of message she left, and by that afternoon it was too late to tell my dad. I needed to get home, and all I could think about was getting from Point A to Point B.

I know it is not having a BMW that is my problem. It's THIS BMW. It's the car that made me feel successful and grown up. I've been waiting to tell my dad.

But I tell you what: for well over 30 years, my dad kept a little log in the car so he could track his MPG. I think he'd be tickled by the Prius too. However, I have to say I'm sure God offered him the Mercedes and he negotiated for the Caddy. And he's moving on, unfettered by earthy pursuits and comforted by the knowledge that he empowered people, and he was loved. Because after all, on this open road all that matters is the JOURNEY from Point A to Point B.